


In Lieu of Dreams and Realities

by writingderivatives



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I don't know what else to tag, M/M, Possible Character Death, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingderivatives/pseuds/writingderivatives
Summary: The first time they meet was through a nightmare. Ever since then, they met up in dreams. But happens if they met in person?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!   
> This is my first official fanfic that I have posted. I'm not too sure how it will turn out and I'm kind of nervous about it. But I wanted it to be a meaningful and fun piece. Haha, I say this but I'm not confident in it. Though I hope that you guys like it!

Moonlit Sonata

 

Time was a capricious entity; but at times, he was resolute. That was given. And it was true. In certain periods of the year, he would dash forward ever so quickly without discerning those who stood in his path. As if moving forward was his only objective and reason for existing. Other times, he would slow down just slightly for everything to be able to catch up. But for those who had been under his governance, he hadn't eased his pace enough.

 

When they said Time waited for no one, it was true. He never seemed to. The number days of every year seem to wane and so did nights. It appeared as of 365 days were really only one month that had flown by. People lamented over this. Some even pleaded in silent desperation for Time to just stop. But it was a fruitless cry. No one could defy time, no one at all.

 

Except Winter.

 

Out of all the seasons ruled by Time himself, Winter was the most defiant. The most selfish but charitable season. When she came out, it was always a quarrel between her and Father Time. While he sought to trudge forward, she stood in his tracks; creating a thin slippery layer of ice. And when he prevailed over that, she threw a fit of strong winds and tears of ice. The arbitrary force found himself having to appease her. Naturally, this meant that the speed of minutes had been subdued; thus it made those scrambling for even the smallest second sigh in relief.

 

Of course, the notion of subdued time wasn't for everyone. Winter, a bit obnoxious for some. At least for a certain man, this was so as he sat on the ledge of his window and peered out into the snow filled streets. The irises adorned with a slightly darker tone than coral blue reflected the soft rays of moonlight that penetrated his living room. But lurking on the patch of pale skin right below his eyes were dark spots. Spots that signified his fatigue and exhaustion. Indeed, he had been utterly exhausted. That tired feeling was easily remedied with sleep but he could exactly do so.

 

Moments prior, he had just awoken in cold sweat from a nightmare. A bitter taste of a memory that he would much rather have forgotten by now. Yet it happened to plague him that night; and all nights prior to that one. For whatever reason it decided to spring back and haunt him was a mystery. He couldn't grasp the reason why only to give up on the reasoning and tried to coax himself back to sleep. But he couldn't sleep.

 

Now here he was, impatiently sitting miserably at the edge of the window waiting for the sunlight to peek out of the horizon. For dawn to just come out already. However with time being stalled, it was likely that daytime wouldn't come soon enough.

* * *

 

“Vitya.” A low gruff voice rang out as Victor skated towards the benches for a break. “Have you been playing around too late?”

 

Victor responded by swiveling his body around to face his coach. He flashed his signature smile and shook his head quietly.

 

“Then why do you look so tired all the time?” His coach asked whilst knotting his arms before his chest. “It's affecting your practice.”

 

“I--” Victor began while a shiver coursed through his body, “I've just been unable to sleep lately.”

 

The elderly man stared at Victor with a expression of utter disbelief and scrunched his brows together.

 

“I find that hard to believe since you drink a lot at night.” Yakov says blatantly, “So much that you're hung over the next morning.”

 

“Oh come on Yakov.” Victor sighs with a slightly aggravated tone from the accusation, “You overestimate me.”

 

In many other cases, Yakov's statement was true. He didn't want to admit it out loud though. However this time, Yakov’s assumption was false.

 

It was confirmed when Yuri Plisetsky slid up to Victor to take a whiff.

 

“I don't smell any alcohol this time.” The young blonde yankee says flatly, “That's surprising.”

 

“It is.” The coach nods and continues to focus his attention on the silver haired skater to hazard out a guess, “Insomnia?”

 

“....I guess…”

 

“What do you mean you guess?” The blonde asks sharply, but Victor didn't want to reveal everything. And Yakov who noticed Victor beginning to grow distressed, sighed.

 

“Just rest a little while then.” Yakov orders, “We’ll pick up after thirty minutes.”

 

The rest of practice went by, not well but Victor had managed to pull through. Though he wasn't unscathed. When session had come to an end, he was battered. His pale skin: littered with scratches. Shades of sickening purple spots began to show themselves of his legs and his breathing: haggard. It was almost too much to just look at him. The champion seemed to have reached his limit but sadly for him: the Grand Prix was lurking at the end of the year. He couldn't take a break no matter how much his body begged for it.

 

“Victor…” Someone called gently, their voice full of concern. When he turned around, he found that the voice had belonged to Mila. “Maybe you should take the week off?”

 

Victor hesitated. But shook his head.

 

“You know I can't do that Mila…” He responds bitterly, know fully why he couldn't. She knew it as well.

 

Victor couldn't selfishly take a break when he knew the world wanted him. They always chided him subtly to continue his skating career even though they knew he was human himself. He was like their toy; one that they would use over and over until he broke. Even though he knew what his body needed, he could defy the desires of his fans.

 

“I know but…” She tried to counter but was interrupted by Yakov.

 

“He doesn't need time off!” The disgruntled coach snaps settling himself in between the two skaters. “He can just fix his fatigue with sleep!”

 

Both of them went silent.

 

“Go home Vitya.” The old man says, not even looking at Victor. “You better be well rested tomorrow.”

 

Easier said than done.

* * *

 

As Yakov had ordered, Victor headed straight home; he soaked in his bathtub after stretching his aching muscles and was now settled on his bed. Maccachin had made his lap a resting place to sleep. It kind of made Victor envious how carefree the animal was. Sleep came naturally for his furry friend. Unfortunately for Victor, it wasn't all that simple. He was stuck scrolling online for things to read until his medicine kicked in.

 

But after a few articles later, Victor's eyelids fell shut and he was asleep.  
*******  
Again, Victor found himself in the same dream he had been having in the nights prior. He had been thrown back in time and was running. Running down an aging street into an alleyway in an effort to get to another major street parallel to the previous one. A pair of footsteps stalking from behind Victor. But Victor didn't dare to look back. He knew what his pursuer looked like: a middle aged man dressed with battered clothing, his face plastered with an expression plagued with hysteria. Of course there was something shining in his hand every time the moonlight hit it. It had become a manhunt, and he was the game.

 

Victor ran as fast as his ten year old body could handle. He desperately ran to avoid the stranger chasing him relentlessly. Away from that silver knife taunting him, threatening him even.

 

But no matter how fast Victor ran, the man still managed to reach him and pin him to the solid asphalt. The boy’s body shook in fear. The dread of his life stripped away from him scared Victor. His eyes forming tears as he stared at the weapon hovering dangerously above him.

 

_**I'm going to die.** _

 

He thinks to himself as he helplessly screwed his eyes shut and resigns to accept it fully. But the knife never came down as the dream usually played out. Instead, there was nothing. No sound. Not even any movement. When he slid his eyelids open, he found that the scene he was just in a few seconds ago had disappeared. Nonexistent.

 

What took residence in the nightmare’s place was a world of darkness. A pigment used for dimension known as black. For Victor, it was strange. It was strange but within itself, lonely.

 

Thankfully for him, the black expanse wasn't there to stay. A cool gentle breeze brushes against the skin of his cheek and suddenly, a field saturated with golden blades of wheat illuminated the empty space in front of him. The area above him, a starry night sky had been painted. The asphalt his back rested upon turned soft. And when he turned his head, he saw small blades of emerald colored grass.

 

Another brush of air prompts Victor to sit up, but his eyes are still glued to what was above and before him. He hadn't bothered to look back. It wasn't until a few pinkish white petals began to float by that Victor's blue eyes dart backwards to see a tree littered with flowers bearing the same hues. Right beneath it: a small stone bench accompanied by a small pond.

 

Immediately, he found himself captivated by the strangeness of the place. Serenity hit him as he walked over to the bench to savor the sight.

 

_Seems like someone finally came to his senses. ._

Someone chimes, interrupting his moment of reverie. The precipitous masculine voice makes Victor dart his eyes around to search for its owner. He must have looked like a complete fool because his bewilderment caused the mysterious person to laugh. A laughter that rang out almost like a sweet melody that helps to ease Victor's nerves.

 

_I'm up here~._

 

The person chuckles amusedly, however a firefly enters and guides Victor’s vision instead. His blue eyes trailing with the creature up the tree to a branch where a pair of legs dangled.

 

_Can you see me now?_

 

He stumbles off the bench and gasps. Again, the person laughs at Victor's reaction as if the mysterious person was watching a comedy. But Victor's reaction wasn't unfounded. The only thing that was visible was the pair of legs after all. The upper body parts were outlined when he looked even closer but he couldn't make out what the person really looked like.

 

_No matter how hard you try, you won't be able to see my face either._

 

“Why is that?”

 

_Because you're not supposed know….Yet._

 

“What are you talk about? Who are you?”

 

_Man...For a famous Figure skater, you sure do ask too many questions. But you'll figure out the answers to those questions soon enough._

 

“Wait...You know who I am?”

 

The mysterious person chuckles.

 

_Yes Victor, I know who you are~._

 

The feels the stranger smirk mischievously; and before Victor could ask anything more, a chime rings out of thin air ending their little encounter.

 

******

  
On a distant place far off from the icy tundra, a man opened his eyes and sits up from the branch of a tree he had been nestled on. A devious grin had tugged on the corners of his lips. His raven hair ruffled my the soft breeze coming from a large reservoir behind him. Leaping down from his resting spot, the man’s feet landed on the solid ground. And with a content sigh escaping his lips, he takes off in the direction he was always used to.

 

 

_I hope we see each other more often._

**Author's Note:**

> (；一_一) Wow that was a long winded chapter. Again, hopefully it was okay and interesting to read. Anyways, I do appreciate any criticisms you might have on it. If you liked it: a kudo would be valued. Also, if there is something you didn't like: I'm all for some constructive criticism. It'll motivate me for my future works. You can also find me on Twitter and let me know there what you thought! I'm open for conversations there!  
> (@chrymsonclover)


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